


in your warmth I forget how cold it can be

by icanthelpbut_love_you



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Banter, Episode: s03e22 All Good Things..., Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Life-Affirming Sex, M/M, POV Alec Lightwood, Pillow Talk, Teasing, Wedding Rings, just before the golden sheet scene (you know the one)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-11 18:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20158006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icanthelpbut_love_you/pseuds/icanthelpbut_love_you
Summary: “Back in the real world, outside the sanctuary of the loft, the world is still spinning. The chaos that is their lives hasn’t conveniently decided to take a breather just because he and Magnus have been reunited.But right now? Alec can’t bring himself to care. Right now, all he can think about is Magnus, consuming his senses with fierce kisses and fervent touches until Alec’s world is reduced to nothing but the two of them.”Frantically trying to save his fiancé from eternity in hell is definitely not how Alec envisioned spending his first days after getting engaged. So now Magnus is back, he figures they’re owed at the very least some time alone.





	in your warmth I forget how cold it can be

**Author's Note:**

> Sappy, post Magnus-getting-trapped-in-edom reunion feels!  
For @supercalime on tumblr, who had the fantastic prompt: “malec after the reunion in Edom and before the golden sheet scene.”
> 
> Title is from ‘Warmth’ by Bastille

There’s a brief moment, when it’s all over, when Magnus’ portal has closed in a shower of blue sparks, when the scorching heat of Edom is replaced by the familiar slightly-too-cool of the Institute, that they all just stand there. None of them make a sound, save for the occasional gasp and rustle of fabric as their chests still heave from exertion, unwilling to break the silence in case this all turns out to be a cruel dream.

If it is a dream, Alec decides, he’s more than content to never wake up.

He can’t take his eyes off Magnus. It starts out as relief, surging through him in waves as he drinks in the sight of his fiancé (his _fiancé_!) standing only a few feet away, potent enough that the small part of him that’s been whispering defeatedly in the back of his mind the past few days is finally, _blissfully _silent. But underneath there’s a something else stirring, something warm that’s been burning from the moment he’d held Magnus in his arms down in Edom. Since he’d got to _touch_ him, even if only for a few moments before reality came crashing ever so inconveniently back in.

And after that… well. Magnus, standing proud against the mother of all demons with more power wrapped in the palm of his hands than Alec has ever seen in his _life_: that’s an image that is seared right into Alec’s retinas. Lit by Edom’s ever-present fiery glow Magnus had looked striking and dangerous and every bit the king he was born to be. Alec’s pretty sure he’s never going to catch his breath again.

It had sent the flames simmering deep in his gut into a full-blown inferno. Standing here now, close enough to see the tongues of residual magic licking at Magnus’ fingers but too far to touch, is almost unbearable.

His thoughts drift, and he wonders if there’s a way he and Magnus can make a subtle exit in the next few minutes. Then, he catches the way Jace is sneaking looks at Clary and the covert eye contact between Izzy and Simon. It’d be enough to make him laugh, the way all their minds have predictably wandered in the same direction, if he wasn’t incapable of thinking about anything beyond how much he _wants_. Given the amused expressions on both Lorenzo and Meliorn’s faces none of them are doing a very good job of concealing it – Alec knows he isn’t, with the way he’s abandoned all pretence of not staring at Magnus – but it’s not like anyone can really blame them given the near-death experiences of the past few hours. It’s only a matter of who snaps first.

The distinctive whoosh of a new portal opening shatters the quiet and makes Alec jump.

“As much as I’m enjoying standing silently in the middle of the Institute – and really I am,” Magnus’ voice rings through the space between them, sardonic and leaving no doubt about exactly how far that is from the truth, “I’ve just been reunited with my fiancé and, quite frankly, I can think of a lot of things I’d rather be doing.”

The smile Magnus sends the group is lofty and dismissive. But as his eyes land on Alec there’s a flash of near-imperceptible tightness, a blink-and-you’d-miss-it shadow gone so quickly that Alec’s not completely sure it’s not just a trick of the light. Instinct tells him to close the distance between them, regardless of their company. To cradle Magnus’ face in his hands so he can scrutinise every expression there and remind him that he doesn’t have to hide anything around Alec.

“So you’ll have to forgive me if we… make ourselves scarce.”

Whatever Alec was planning on doing, Magnus’ words – which take on a frankly _indecent_ tone for all that they’re relatively innocent – successfully scatter it along with any other semblance of coherent thought. Without permission his eyes drop to Magnus’ lips, drawn there by the smirk that overtakes Magnus’ face as he turns his attention fully to Alec. A flush creeps up Alec’s neck that has nothing to do with embarrassment.

“Shall we?” Magnus asks, offering his elbow expectantly and closing that frustrating distance between them while Alec’s brain is still coming back online.

It’s an over the top gesture, quaint in its old-fashionedness, and Alec snorts as he intertwines their arms. He feels so light, giddy with it. With the relief sitting bright inside him, with the fact that he can finally afford to laugh, so easily, when he hasn’t so much as cracked a smile the entire time Magnus has been gone.

Alec has only a moment to catch sight of the suggestive eyebrow wiggle from Izzy – which is hardly fair, considering the _blatant_ bedroom eyes she was giving Simon seconds ago – before he’s being practically dragged through the portal.

“I believe we have some lost time to make up for, Alexander,” Magnus murmurs over the rush of magic as they tumble through, and Alec shivers at the promise evident in the way Magnus’ voice drops to a purr.

Barely making it out of the portal, Alec sees just enough of their surroundings to realise Magnus has deposited them directly into their bedroom in the loft before Magnus is seizing the collar of his jacket and crowding him backwards. His back hits the wall. Alec is about to tease Magnus for being so eager he can’t even make it to the bed, but Magnus is already claiming his lips in a searing kiss. They’re pressed together from chest to toe, so when Magnus slots a knee between Alec’s legs to bring them even closer Alec can’t hold back the whine that’s torn from his throat and quickly muffled by Magnus’ lips. Knees buckling slightly at the onslaught of sensation, Alec grips Magnus’ arms – an action that only serves to make him even more unsteady as Magnus’ muscles shift under his fingers.

Back in the real world, outside the sanctuary of the loft, the world is still spinning. Izzy still needs a full health check in the aftermath of the heavenly fire, Alec still needs to ask Magnus what actually _happened_ with Asmodeus to make Magnus so certain he’s a non-issue, and Jonathan is still out there doing Raziel-knows-what (wreaking havoc most likely). The chaos that is their lives hasn’t conveniently decided to take a breather just because he and Magnus have been reunited.

But right now? Alec can’t bring himself to care. The world could be crumbling and he wouldn’t spare it a thought. Right now, all he can think about is Magnus, consuming his senses with fierce kisses and fervent touches until Alec’s world is reduced to nothing but the two of them.

Admittedly, there is something to be said about the role reversal evident in _Magnus_ being the impatient one. Normally it’s Alec rushing headfirst into everything and Magnus drawing things out with maddening self-restraint – although Alec’s getting increasingly good at wearing him down. 

It makes Alec chuckle lowly as Magnus fights to remove Alec’s shirt, breaking their kiss long enough to wrench it up Alec’s torso and practically growling as it catches on the way over his shoulders. Any other day, Magnus would snap his fingers and the offending material would be instantly gone. But Alec can relate all too well to the bone-deep need to touch, to confirm in every possible way that this isn’t just a grief-driven fantasy.

Finally managing to wrestle Alec’s shirt into submission, Magnus tears it over Alec’s head and tosses it somewhere to the side. The motion sparks hint of concern in Alec’s subconscious, triggered by the way that Magnus seems to be teetering on the edge between passion and something else. Something frantic and desperate. It’s gone before Alec can fully process it though, scattered once more by the burning pressure of Magnus’ hands on his bare skin, gliding over the planes of Alec’s chest. Magnus circles his thumb around a nipple, brushing over the hard nub and pressing down. Alec shudders and he can feel Magnus grinning triumphantly into his mouth.

Then Magnus pulls back, reaching between them to join Alec in undoing his shirt, and he’s _shaking_.

Magnus’ hands tremble, fumbling over the buttons uncontrollably, and it’s something Alec has never seen before. Not from Magnus, who’s always so carefully in control, so composed. Until he’s not.

Alec halts his own efforts and brings a hand to cup Magnus’ cheek. 

He’s not sure how he could have missed the tension when it’s now so obvious in every line of Magnus’ body as his eyes snap up. And there’s that undercurrent of restlessness, something wild in the warlock’s expression just underneath the blazing desire.

It’s fear, Alec realises abruptly, a lingering terror that hasn’t quite had time to be tempered by the relief of the past few hours. Terror that if he stops to breathe this will all be ripped out from beneath him. Terror borne of complete _disbelief_ that it can possibly be over.

It’s the same expression that Alec caught a glimpse of earlier in the Institute, the same fear that’s bleeding into Magnus’ uncharacteristic forwardness. But now it’s stripped bare and Magnus isn’t even trying to hide it. Or – more likely – he is, but is losing the battle against his rapidly-crumbling façade.

It occurs to Alec that a significant part of Magnus, with his penchant for underestimating how much he is loved and how much he is a vital part of the lives of those who love him, might not have believed that anyone was coming for him.

Alec’s heart breaks a little with the raw unguarded desperation in Magnus eyes where they’re locked with his. It’s like Magnus is hanging on by a thread, the agony of the past few days catching up with him and Alec can see him on the precipice of losing what pretence of composure he has left.

“I’m here, Magnus,” he says, aiming for reassuring but missing the mark and ending up closer to pleading (and alright, maybe he isn’t as ok as he’s been trying to pretend), “_We’re _here.” 

“I know,” Magnus breathes back, but there’s still something frayed in his tone. He sounds exhausted. Defeated. And it might be Alec’s borderline unhealthy need to fix everything talking, but that’s not something he can just let go.

“No, Magnus, listen to me. There is _nothing _– not in this world, not in Edom, not in any of the countless other dimensions out there – that could keep me away from you.”

“We always find our way back to each other?” Magnus queries, voice light but expression intense as he repeats Alec’s words from so long ago back to him.

Alec pauses for a second, fingers caressing Magnus’ jaw as he makes sure he has his fiancé’s full attention before he speaks, trying to force all the intensity and adoration and fierce certainty swirling inside him into a single word.

“_Always_.”

He must get at least some of it across. Something deep inside Alec aches at the awe that flits across Magnus’ face, the shock in the subtle parting of Magnus’ lips that – incomprehensibly – surfaces every time Magnus is faced with how much Alec loves him. As though somehow he doesn’t know that a trip to hell doesn’t even scratch the surface of the lengths Alec would go to for him.

Turning his face in Alec’s hand, Magnus presses a kiss to his palm. His eyes slip closed as the tension visibly bleeds from him, and he sags a little where he’s pressed against Alec. The ache intensifies, Alec’s heart clenching at the complete trust Magnus is showing him in allowing himself to be vulnerable like this.

When Magnus’ eyes open again Alec is met with brilliant gold. He leans in and brushes his lips gently against Magnus’, the frantic edge from before mostly dissipated. Their hands touch as they both work on Magnus’ shirt buttons once more and, this time, they’re steady.

The last button slips free and Alec slides his hands up to Magnus’ shoulders to push the shirt down his arms onto the floor. He keeps pushing, gently urging Magnus backwards.

“C’mon,” he pulls back just enough to whisper breathlessly against Magnus mouth, “Bed.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Magnus murmurs, distracted, gaze dropping back to Alec’s lips.

Rolling his eyes, there’s nothing Alec can do but kiss him again properly, swallowing Magnus’ bright laugh, tasting the tentative joy sweet on his lips.

Magnus’ knees hit the foot of the bed and they both tumble onto the golden sheets, trading playful kisses. Magnus looks from their still-clothed lower halves back to Alec, the question obvious. Before he can even fully process, Alec’s nodding. There’s a time for carefully undressing each other, for revelling in the fumble of battling with uncooperative belts and too tight jeans (mainly on Magnus’ part), but Alec’s pretty sure he’ll die if he has to pull away from Magnus for even a second.

Magnus wastes no time obliging, the crackle of electricity and faint scent of ozone intoxicating where it lingers in the air between them – by the angel, Alec hadn’t fully realised how much he’s missed the tell-tale prickle of Magnus’ magic against his skin and that specific shade of blue – and then they’re pressed against each other skin to skin. Alec is struck momentarily dumb, taking in the sight of Magnus splayed across the shimmering bedsheets. The impish gleam in Magnus’ eyes is all the warning he gets before Magnus takes advantage of his brief distraction, flipping them so that he’s straddling Alec.

If Magnus is expecting him to put up a fight he’ll be sorely disappointed, Alec thinks dazedly. Magnus above him, pressing him into the bed, never fails to make Alec practically melt. He’s always craved physical contact from Magnus – a gentle touch to his waist as they manoeuvre around each other in the kitchen, a kiss the second he comes home, a hand carding through his hair when they curl up on the couch – and if he stopped to contemplate it that probably has something to do with the way he so completely denied himself affection of any kind before they met. But this he adores on a whole new level. With Magnus’ weight on him he feels grounded. Safe

Magnus leans back where he’s perched on top of Alec and raises his hand. In truly predictable form, he waits until the combination of the abrupt lack contact and deliberate motion draw Alec’s focus to exactly where he wants it for maximum impact, and only _then_ does he move to vanish his rings. It’s a familiar, practiced gesture, full of intent that has Alec shivering. Magnus is well aware of that, far too smug in the knowledge of what seeing him use magic in any context (but especially this one) does to Alec and shamelessly taking advantage of that knowledge whenever the opportunity arises. So it visibly catches Magnus by surprise when Alec stops him with a gentle hand before he can complete the movement, propping himself on an elbow to shift so he’s sitting up.

The change of position sends Magnus grinding down into his lap and they both groan.

It derails from there, Alec completely distracted from his original purpose as Magnus surges forwards again to kiss him. Alec bucks up into the tantalising friction as Magnus trails his lips down Alec’s neck, unerringly finding the _deflect_ rune there. He nips lightly at it before soothing the sting with his tongue.

Helpless under Magnus’ ministrations, Alec bares his neck in unselfconscious invitation. An invitation that Magnus is all too happy to take, worrying at the skin until there’s no doubt that Alec will find a mark there later. The careful attention his fiancé is paying to the junction between skin and rune, where dormant electricity lies tightly coiled under the surface, leaves Alec unable to contain the breathy noises escaping him. Magnus hums in response, smug but clearly breathless too, and the vibration makes Alec’s already bruising grip on Magnus’ hips tighten.

It’s not until one of Magnus’ hands – the one not still intertwined with Alec’s – comes up to cup Alec’s neck, the press of rings cool against his feverish skin, that Alec abruptly refocuses.

Reluctantly urging Magnus to sit back, laughing at the warlock’s protesting whine and immediately missing the contact, Alec draws Magnus’ right hand towards him. His fingers find one of the signet rings there, running over the grooves of the engraved _B_ as he considers.

He can feel Magnus gather power, blue sparks dancing over their joined hands as he once again prepares to banish the rings. Alec shakes his head before Magnus gets a chance, and Magnus sends him a quizzical look.

“Let me,” Alec murmurs, voice coming out low and husky.

Alec hears Magnus’ breath catch, briefly mesmerised by the bob of Magnus’ throat as he swallows thickly and nods. His normally slitted pupils are dilated, black swallowing the irises until there’s barely a thin ring of gold peeking out at the edges.

Slipping the ring off Magnus’ finger, Alec places it on the bed next to them and narrows his eyes as it immediately vanishes. Shaking his head as he looks up at Magnus, a picture of innocence, Alec moves on to the next ring – engraved with a swirling _M_ to match the previous one – and removes it too. When he reaches for Magnus’ other hand, he finds Magnus already extending it towards him in offering. Evidently Alec’s not the only one affected by this. An undoubtedly sappy grin overtakes his face and Alec takes the proffered hand as he places the ring on the golden sheets next to him. He huffs a laugh as it too disappears.

If he were to look in Magnus’ jewellery box, Alec suspects that he’d find both rings nestled in their rightful places. With that in mind this should feel ridiculous, a pointless gesture. But it’s intimate in a way that Alec hadn’t quite anticipated, in a way that’s making it difficult to properly draw breath. 

He hesitates, brushing a thumb reverently over the last remaining ring – the only ring on Magnus’ left hand. It’s far less opulent than the others, a simple silver band glinting in the low light. Taking in the way it sits innocuously on Magnus’ finger simultaneously makes a lump form in his throat and happiness rush liquid through his veins. He’s hyperaware of the ring’s twin where its comforting weight rests on his own hand.

The awareness brings forth memories of thousands of wings against unnaturally dark skies, the crash of falling demon towers, the chilling realisation of fighting a losing battle, and – in the midst of all that – Magnus pulling him aside to steal a moment of pure joy. Memories of the weight of a ring on his finger and a promise in his heart, and the feeling of _completeness_. Completeness that contrasted so wholly with the cold emptiness as Magnus disappeared through the portal moments later, as above the deafening sounds of battle Alec could hear something inside himself shatter beyond repair. 

In the days that followed – terrifying, seemingly-endless days filled with nothing but uncertainty and longing – the ring became his anchor. Other than the few minutes spent trying to track Magnus in Edom, Alec hasn’t taken it off for a second since Magnus slid it onto his finger in Alicante. Sometimes it’s been the only thing stopping him from screaming or collapsing out of pure exhaustion. Or both.

But more than that it’s been a tangible reminder while Magnus was gone, a promise not just of love and commitment but that he would _get Magnus back_, no matter the way everyone else appeared distressingly resigned. A promise that Alec would do quite literally anything if it meant he could hold Magnus in his arms again.

And now he can. He _is_. And Alec never wants to let him go.

After a moment of consideration, he raises Magnus hand to his lips and gently places a kiss on the cool metal. Gazing up through his lashes (he’s learnt to play coy from the best, after all), the way Magnus softens – eyes crinkling and lips turning up as he watches Alec with utter adoration – makes warmth seep into Alec’s skin and heat him to the core.

The moment lingers, hanging in the air between them as Alec reverently lowers Magnus’ hand from his lips. He leaves the engagement ring where it is; Magnus is predominantly right handed and, even if he wasn’t, the ring wouldn’t really get in the way there.

Confusion touches Magnus’ face for a second before he realises Alec’s intentions, fondness and hunger warring blatantly in his eyes.

Hunger apparently wins, because then Magnus is pouncing and pressing Alec back against the sheets. A startled laugh is punched out of Alec at the eagerness of Magnus’ hands on him, skimming down his ribs. It gets choked off into a groan though, as Magnus trails his fingers over the inside of his thighs before pressing one against his rim, already slick (though whether by magic or just while Alec was otherwise distracted he can’t say for sure). For a few moments Magnus just rubs the tip of his finger there, almost teasing but not quite. Savouring.

It’s only when Alec reaches back to brace a hand on the headboard so he can push back against Magnus’ hand that Magnus finally presses in, one finger then another, never wavering from that unbearably languid pace. Then on the next inward thrust, Magnus presses feather-light against the spot that has Alec crying out.

Scratch that. Magnus is definitely teasing.

Twisting his fingers, Magnus alternates between deliberately avoiding Alec’s prostate and just brushing it, the anticipation and unpredictability of it as much as the sparks of pleasure making Alec jolt and gasp until he’s rocking on Magnus’ fingers with open desperation.

A stifled noise from Magnus prompts Alec to lift his head so he can see his fiancé properly. Magnus meets his gaze, the thin ring of gold still visible around his dilated pupils glinting a smouldering amber. His lips are red, like he’s been biting down hard as he tends to do when he wants to hear Alec but can’t contain his own sounds of pleasure. He looks awestruck. As if he can’t bring himself to look away – as if he can barely believe what’s in front of him.`

“You’re _beautiful_, my Alexander,” he murmurs, punctuating his words with a curl of his fingers that makes Alec’s vision blur at the edges, “Gorgeous. Stunning. A work of art –”

He breaks off with a low groan, free hand shifting, and Alec realises that Magnus is touching himself, the heel of his palm pressing reflexively against his cock.

It’s too much. Alec’s already wound far too tight without Magnus looking at him like _that_, getting off just at the sight of Alec spread out in front of him. Alec’s head drops back against the pillows, eyes falling closed and breath stuttering.

Magnus stills his fingers then, a playful admonishment. Alec’s eyes flutter back open, hips thrusting back harder as he looks at Magnus plaintively. Magnus only follows the movement, drawing his fingers out in a torturous slide and smiling wickedly at the whine it pulls from Alec. The effect is dampened somewhat by how thoroughly wrecked Magnus looks, eyes hooded and the tension in his muscles belying the self-control it’s taking for him to hold back.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, repeating Alec’s words from earlier back at him, and Alec is powerless to do anything but obey, gaze locked with Magnus’ as the head of his cock presses against him.

“If that’s all you’ve – _ah_ – got, I may as well get myself off,” Alec snarks when Magnus doesn’t immediately move, instead remaining pressed against his sensitive rim until the urge to flip them both over and just take his pleasure is near-impossible for Alec to resist.

Magnus’ eyes flash with delight. “We have all night, Alexander. Forgive me for wanting to savour the moment.”

Then he’s pushing in, and any further retorts die on Alec’s lips.

He can feel every inch of Magnus inside him, every shift as he slides in magnified by the rush of overwhelming elation. Alec arches, choking on a moan as Magnus slides forwards until he’s fully seated. He flexes his arm where he’s clutching the headboard, partially an uncontrollable response to the exquisite stretch but also because he knows all too well the effect it will have on Magnus. Sure enough, Magnus’ grip on Alec’s thigh goes momentarily slack, eyes glazing over where they trace the line of Alec’s bicep.

Then Magnus seems to gather himself, fingers tightening enough that Alec can feel the bite of Magnus’ ring where it presses into his skin. The sensation sends a thrill of anticipation through him. Deliberately, Magnus pulls almost all the way out before pushing back in one smooth slide, wrenching a groan from deep in his own throat to answer Alec’s sharp gasp at the friction it creates, pace building as Alec rocks back to meet him.

Adjusting his grip, Magnus hikes Alec’s legs up where they’re wrapped around his waist. The movement tilts Alec’s hips, changing the angle just enough that on his next thrust Magnus hits his prostate dead on. Alec tosses his head back in a silent shout as sudden white-hot pleasure steals the breath from his lungs, feeling Magnus’ rhythm falter as Alec clenches around him. Desperate for an anchor, his hands come up to scrabble against Magnus’ back, drawing him close.

“Magnus, there – _oh_, right there, _fuck_,” he manages, voice so raw he barely recognises it as his own.

Legs tightening, he digs his heels insistently into Magnus’ lower back, rocking up to chase the feeling and keep Magnus pressed flush against him. Magnus obliges with a breathless moan as Alec’s movements force him deeper, slowing their pace until they’re grinding together, not willing to even separate enough to thrust properly. The constant pressure against Alec’s prostate lights up every nerve in his body until all he can do is clutch at Magnus’ shoulders and let the pleasure overtake him.

He leans up, the distance between them still far too much. Magnus responds by bringing their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss and the movement, combined with their slow rocking, traps Alec’s cock against Magnus’ abs. It only takes a few thrusts like that, the perfect angle combined with that friction and the taste of Magnus on his tongue, to bring Alec off with a cry that breaks into a sob as Magnus’ slides a hand between them to stroke him through it.

Balancing on the exquisite edge of overstimulation, Alec murmurs praise as he grinds up to encourage Magnus’ increasingly erratic movements and trembles as each shift only intensifies the aftershocks. By now Magnus is more gasping against Alec’s lips than actually kissing him and if he could go again so quickly Alec would be hard just from the noises Magnus is making. As it is, his cock twitches at the dull pulse of pleasure that shoots through him when Magnus tucks his face into Alec’s neck and tips over the edge with a choked-off moan of Alec’s name. Blue sparks spill from Magnus’ fingers as he comes deep inside Alec, turning the feeling sharp, skittering over his skin and overloading him with the ecstasy of Magnus’ release until he’s writhing against the sheets. 

Running his hands fervently over Magnus’ back and shoulders as they both come down, Alec can feel Magnus shudder just before his arms give out. He all but collapses over Alec with an exaggerated huff that has Alec dissolving into muffled giggles, high on endorphins and the familiar weight of Magnus’ body on his. Magnus glares half-heartedly for a moment, trying and thoroughly failing to contain the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and then they’re both laughing breathlessly while Magnus musters the energy to shift off Alec so they can manoeuvre themselves into a more comfortable position.

They lie there, an offhanded spell from Magnus cleaning them enough for now, tangled together and catching their breath. Gazing up at Magnus, once he’s regained the presence of mind and coordination to do so, Alec drinks in the way the light reflects off the golden sheets and illuminates Magnus’ face in a soft glow.

His head is resting on Magnus’ chest, jostled by the slight up and down of Magnus’ ragged breathing. Magnus’ heart beats against his cheek, strong and – Alec notes with a hint of smugness – more than a little erratic, but evening out with every passing second. It’s far more comforting than it has any right to be.

Magnus’ arm tightens around him as their eyes meet, and Alec notices that Magnus’ hand has gravitated to rest over his heart. Fingers splayed and hand pressing gently down, it’s like Magnus is subconsciously trying to feel Alec’s heartbeat too, as reassuring to him as his is to Alec. He snuggles further into Magnus’ embrace, pressing a kiss to Magnus’ chest just to feel the brief flutter against his lips.

“I missed you,” he whispers against Magnus’ skin, “More than words can say. You were only gone a few days but every second was agony.”

Alec’s voice breaks a little on ‘gone’ but he pushes past it. Even though he’s said as much earlier, even though bringing it up again risks rupturing the blissful bubble they’ve found themselves in, with his defences completely down he can’t fight the need to make sure Magnus knows in no uncertain terms that Alec would have sooner died than stopped searching for a way to get him back.

Magnus, thankfully, just hums pensively in response, remaining lax next to him.

“I missed you too. There I was stuck in Edom for the foreseeable future, Lilith on my doorstep, but all I could think about was you.”

He chuckles self-deprecatingly but it does nothing to offset the vulnerability in his tone. His free hand shifts, searching.

Alec meets him halfway, intertwining their fingers. 

“The world could have been falling out from underneath us and finding you would have still been my first priority. You know that, right?”

It’s only because he’s pressed as close as he is that he’s privy to Magnus’ sharp intake of breath – feeling more than hearing it in the abrupt rise of Magnus’ chest beneath him. But Magnus’ speechlessness is obvious anyway in the resounding silence that follows. Alec toys with Magnus’ fingers, twisting his ring absentmindedly.

“I love you so much, Alexander,” Magnus finally breathes, voice rough, and Alec squeezes his hand.

“Love you more.”

The quip startles a splutter of laughter from Magnus.

“Not possible,” he shoots back, teasing and heartfelt all at once. Alec buries his grin in Magnus’ chest.

Basking in each other’s presence, they lapse into contented silence and before long Alec catches himself dozing. Wrapped in Magnus’ arms, finally _home_, he lets himself be lulled by the rhythm of Magnus’ gradually-deepening breaths until he drifts off. And, for the first time in days, he sleeps peacefully, his fiancé’s heartbeat steady in his ear.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written anything even close to explicit, so lmk what you think!
> 
> Come and yell with me on tumblr (@icanthelpbut-love-you)


End file.
